


The Surly Bonds of Earth

by denorios



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-11
Updated: 2010-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:17:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denorios/pseuds/denorios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man and his ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Surly Bonds of Earth

**Author's Note:**

> This pretty much came from nowhere straight as you read it. We all know how Kirk feels about his ship, but Pike loved her first. Poor Pike.

It takes a long time for a starship to be built.

Christopher Pike has lost count of the number of trips he's taken to Iowa, the number of times he has stood on the hard dry ground and gazed up at the big white ship slowly taking shape above him. He vaguely remembers a phrase from his childhood schooldays: an artist from Earth's history - a sculptor? - something about the statue always being inside the marble, just needing to be set free.

There are times when he feels that way about the _Enterprise_, as though she has always existed, always been waiting for him - and the ugly framing and machinery surrounding her is a prison, holding her down, holding her back. She belongs in space, amongst the stars and the planets and the empty spaces between them. Free. It feels like blasphemy to build something like a starship inside Earth's atmosphere, like breeding fish in a cage, birds in the sea. She should be born in her natural element, he thinks.

Sometimes, and the thought makes him chuckle and shake his head ruefully at his own foolishness, he even feels like a proud father, watching his child grow day by day, seeing in her unfinished lines the beauty that is still to come. He looks forward to being there for her first flight, the moment closer with every moment that passes, every day, week, month. He's never had children, never had world enough and time, but in the moment when Admiral Bennett pulled him aside and told him his new command would be the flagship he could easily imagine how a man would feel at hearing the news of his impending fatherhood.

The construction crew have grown used to him now, no longer commenting as he winds his way amongst them, fingers trailing along the ship's shining hull. He couldn't wait to get inside her, to walk her corridors, to visit room after room - Transporter Room, Sickbay, Crew Mess Hall, Engineering - and close his eyes and feel her breathe around him. Any captain will tell you that a ship has a soul; every captain believes his ship is special; but, Pike believes, none of them have ever stood on the empty bridge of the _Enterprise_ and just listened.

He wants to know every inch of her, every rivet, every deck plate, every Jeffries tube and computer panel. The thought of trying to captain a starship whilst not being able to find his way to the bridge is anathema to him. He might be captain in name only right now, but it means something to him. When he closes his eyes he is still walking her decks, ticking them off in his memory - A Deck: Bridge, Navigational Sensor Arrays; B Deck: Briefing Room, Captain's Ready Room, XO's Office.

He hates Earth now, hates the smells and the noise and the bustle. He hates feeling the slow pull of gravity on his body, hates the daily rhythm of sun and sky, the grass beneath his feet, the San Francisco fog, the bars and taverns out of which he pulls endless cadets, the fights he breaks up, the paperwork he has to fill in, the meetings he must attend, the disciplinary hearings. He wasn't meant for this, a repetitive desk job, tied to the Academy.

He enjoys working with the cadets, invigorated anew by their youth and energy, but there are so many of them and so few stand out. He takes his responsibilities seriously, but he grows tired of trotting out the same lines: "Officer in four years, captain in eight." Most of them will never become captains, not in eight years, not in twenty. There aren't enough ships in the 'fleet for all the cadets who dream of standing foursquare on the bridge, the wind in their sails and the universe spread out before them.

He doesn't feel guilty. Everyone needs a dream to sustain them. His is called _Enterprise_, and he's waited a long time for her.

Three years, seven months, and sixteen days. Seventeen days. Eighteen days. His patience is wearing thin. But she will not be rushed. So he'll wait. She's worth waiting for. He can only hope that when the day finally arrives he'll prove worthy of her.


End file.
